


Heart of Hearts

by ThroneofMist (orphan_account)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 80's Music, 80s, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And the guitar, Ben Solo is a Mess, Ben is 24, Cat BB-8, Chewbacca is a butler/assistant thing you’ll see, F/M, Fluff and Smut, I’ll tag more later if I remember, Pretty much call me by your name, Rey is 18, Slow Burn, ben solo thrives in the 80s, but he plays the piano, different storyline tho, finn and poe are getting together because I love them, knights of ren are here and I will be giving them personalities, luke is a professor of philosophy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:28:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23430211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ThroneofMist
Summary: It’s 1983 and Rey Kanata is staying with the infamous Professor Skywalker for the summer in his cliff-side mansion on the Italian riviera. During the restless summer weeks, her plans to study and work are thrown by Ben Solo, the cold and seemingly indifferent nephew she’s forced to live with. The summer alters their lives as both try and ignore the blossoming force between them.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Every Breath You Take

**Author's Note:**

> Since I now have a lot of time on my hands, I decided to rewatch all the Star Wars films again. And now I can’t shake off the fact that Ben and Rey deserved better, so here we go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is her?”

Rey

  
The sky is clear, the air is bright and I’ve never see grass so green. I roll the car window down and stick my head out, laughing as I watch the rolling fields. The car hums down windy single track roads, the trees like a magical portal to a place I thought only existed in films.

I wave as we pass a herd of cyclists, landing back in my seat when the car suddenly swerves. “Sorry,” I mutter sheepishly. I wind the window back up as I glance at the driver who had been sent to pick me up from the airport. He’d just said Professor Skywalker has sent him, grabbed my suitcase and driven.

He just shrugs, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The driver seems to be about late fifties, but he still has a head of wild curls, every hue of brown imaginable.

“It’s just so beautiful,” I muse, leaning my head against the window. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” The driver nods, pushing his sunglasses back further on his head as we turn right. “I grew up outside Phoenix, in this crappy little town, and everywhere you turned there was a sand, sand, sand,” I laugh, shaking my head. “So I’m not used to all these colours,” I sigh wistfully. “I can’t believe people actually live here. It’s like a fairy-tale. There’s just so much _green_!”

“You sure are chatty, kid,” the driver says, but he says it in a way that seems like he doesn’t mind my chatter. I blush all the same. I’d told myself before coming that I wasn’t going to chat. Wasn’t going to say everything that came to my mind. I wasn’t going to act like a naïve eighteen-year-old.

“Well, this is us,” he says as the car starts to slow down. I smile, turning to look outside when I gasp, all of the air leaving me.

Jesus Christ. This is not what I- I mean I’d seen the pictures but – holy shit.

The villa is beautiful, with its ashy blonde and red bricks, with the ivy that seems to breathe with the building. All the windows seem to be open, pale blue shutters rattle against the warm summer wind. I don’t even realise I’m out of the car before I run my fingers down the worn iron gates, having to restrain from vaulting over them. I can practically see the generations of people who’ve lived here since the 17th century, milling about in the sun.

“It’s a beautiful place.” I blink and look to my side, smiling up at the driver as he reveals a key, pushing open the opulent gates.

“Hey,” I call out as he walks back to the car, grabbing my suitcase. “I never asked for your name.” Shame unfurls in my gut. I’d been too excited to even think of anything but my apprenticeship on the way home. The whole drive I couldn’t stop thinking about how the Italian sun just felt different to the one back home.

“You can call me Chewie,” he smiles, walking towards the mansion. I wait for a moment, letting my eyes flutter shut. Three months. This is my home for three months.

I’d never imagined I’d actually get the apprenticeship when I applied, almost forgetting about it until I got an email back from Professor Skywalker. Even on the plane, I kept waiting, ready to wake up and continue with my monotone, sand-filled life. But as I feel the fresh air on my face, kissing at my cheeks, I let myself breathe. This is real. I’m going to study with Professor Skywalker. I’m going to help him with his studies. For a whole three months. This is real.

“C’mon.” My eyes flash open as Chewie gestures for me to follow him, almost at the front door. I chase after him, converse hitting the stones that lead to the opulent door. It’s been painted the same pale blue as the shutters, although the door seems to be more worn down.

I wait beside Chewie, nervously shifting my weight from foot to foot. He watches me with a cast of amusement, and I’m about to tell him that I’ve just never met a professor as esteemed and respected as Professor Skywalker when the door swings open and he appears in the threshold.

“Miss Kanata,” he smiles, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a face as welcoming as his. I’ve seen Luke Skywalker before, but only from his picture at the back of all my textbooks. He’s much more _alive_ in real life. His eyes seem to sing and his toothy beam isn’t anything like the stern, wise smile from the back of my books. “Welcome!”

“Hello,” I grin back, unable to stop myself as he leads me inside. “Your home is beautiful,” I breathe, taking in my surroundings. The furniture seems old, but somehow retains its elegance and beauty. Stacks of books litter every nook, and papers covered in music notes decorate every surface. Scrunched up pieces of paper lie on the tiled mosaic ground, beside a pile of sandals and tennis shoes.

As the Professor leads me to a study, the smell of fresh bread and squeezed peaches makes its way towards me. I swear I hear the soft sound of a piano, but it fades as we enter the study. My trainers made a soft padding sound against the floor, and I feel bad walking across the intricate tiles, the sunlight causing them to sparkle.

“This villa has been passed down from my family for generations,” the Professor smiles kindly as Chewie drops my suitcase down carefully onto a couch, giving me a slight nod before he disappears from the room.

“You must be starving after your long journey,” he says, leaning against the wooden desk. The study is mostly bookshelves, save for the Professor’s desk and a large bay window, cushions arranged to create a seat. The wallpaper is beautiful, depicting a spring meadow. I tap my fingers along the daisies on the wall.

“Mostly just tired,” I laugh, feeling the aching weariness in my bones.

“Of course,” he smiles before his brows furrow. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where my nephew is, he’s meant to be showing you to your room. Normally he hides out in here,” he muses, his eyes darting to the guitar lying abandoned on the armchair. One of the string has snapped, a replacement lying on the case beside it, as if someone was in the middle of replacing it. The guitar looks worn but loved, just like the rest of the villa.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” I start, uncomfortable at the idea of his nephew running about after me. I didn’t even know he had a nephew who stayed with him. “I’m sure I can find my own way if you just-”

But then the study door is flung open, and I meet the loveliest pair of eyes I’ve ever seen.

Square jaw. Pale skin dotted in freckles and moles. Chin length, unkempt hair that reminds me of the night for some reason. The man standing in front of me takes up everything. 

My throat bobs as our eyes clash, hazel against brown. He watches me, eyes looking up and down in the same way I study statues in class.

My heart slips as my eyes fall onto his lips, which are unfairly perfect. I watch as those lips turn from a tight line to a frown. I blink, tearing my gaze away from his pale lips as I glance out the window instead.

“This is her?” the man asks, turning to the professor. He has a husky voice, a voice that commands you to turn. He reminds me of a stormy day. Like when I would watch the lighting from my window as a child, wishing for nothing more than to reach out and touch it.

Suddenly, I feel very cold, rubbing my hands up my exposed arms. Maybe it was too cold to wear a vest. Skywalker nods, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Rey, meet Ben, my nephew.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, the words falling out of my mouth too quickly as I stick my hand out awkwardly. Ben cocks his head, eyebrows quirking up before he sighs, turning to pick up my case. My arm falls limply to my side.

“I’ll show you to my room,” he says, picking up my suitcase like it weighs nothing. I couldn’t even lift that into Chewie’s trunk. My room? Before I can question what that means, a faint blush painting my face, Professor Skywalker, gives me a soft pat before he tells me to get some rest.

“Thank you, Professor Skywalker. For this opportunity. I’ll help you with your studies as best I can.”

“Of course,” he smiles. I can tell that he smiles a lot, explaining the sun wrinkles around his eyes. “I’m excited to help assist you with your thesis.” I hear an annoyed sign from the hallway and when I glance at the door, Ben gestures for me to follow him. He doesn’t wait for me, already starting up the stairs. I don’t think I like this guy.

“And Rey?” I turn back, meeting Skywalker’s kind blue eyes, as I follow after Ben. “Call me Luke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments make me happy :)


	2. Stairway to Heaven

Ben

I’ve always resented my uncle’s tradition of inviting young scholars to stay with him for the summer. Ever since I was twelve and started staying with Luke in the Summer months, I’ve loathed the students from America. I hated the way they took the piss out of my accent, hated the way they treated my home like a museum. The way they treated Luke like a god. The way they treated me. Every single one who’s stayed with us has had a superiority complex, and waltzes around Crema like it’s here just for them.

As I got older, I decided that the only way to live with the pretentious students was to ignore them. To merely co-habit. I tried this for the first time when I was seventeen, and the twenty-year-old Californian student hadn’t seemed to care that I stormed past him like he didn’t exist. Although, the only thing he’d seemed to care about was screwing every girl in Crema. Including Liliana Phasma.

Liliana’s my best mate, I suppose. Since she’s one of the only people I can stand. We both go to Ren University in Kent. She was the one who told me to move into her flat during my last fight with my parents. Liliana isn’t kind or caring, barely even understands basic human emotions, but she’s there when I need her.

We come back to Crema every holiday because she loves her parents and because I hate mine.

Sighing, I carry the girl’s suitcase up the stairs when she finally scuttles out into the hall. She’s already got that glow they all get when they meet Luke for the first time. Tragic.

She stays behind me as I lead her up to the third floor. Standing in the threshold as I shoulder open the door to my room. This is the thing that I hate most about this whole shit-show. The student always stays in my fucking bedroom. Fair enough, Luke wasn’t expecting me that first year, when a twelve-year-old Ben bought a plane ticket with his dad’s card and made his own way to Crema. The student was already staying in my room then.

But the next year, Luke stopped me from unpacking my shit in my room, telling me the room was already made up for the visitor. After that, every Summer I always went straight up to the guest room. I don’t get my room back until Christmas.

I drop the girl’s trunk onto the bed, grabbing some music sheets from the desk before I make to leave. But she’s still standing in the doorway, watching me with wide eyes. The same dark eyes that watched me from the application letter last Christmas. Luke had asked me to help him pick out a student and I’d begrudgingly agreed. I’ll do anything Luke asked me to. As long as he keeps his end of our silent deal. Don’t ask questions about my parents. Let me stay in the holidays.

“How about this one?” I’d murmured after an hour of skimming through repetitive applications. “Rey Kantana. Arizona State. Philosophy.”

I don’t know why she stood out. She didn’t have any extraordinary credentials. Didn’t seem special. Just another kid in a faceless, nameless list. But the name had caught my attention. Luke had pulled her file up on his computer, and then the name had a face to match. While Luke had gone to make a cup of tea, I slipped into his seat and clicked onto her student ID picture.

I wasn’t instantly stunned by her face. It wasn’t like in a film, where my heart pounded and I instantly fell in love. She just looked like an average American girl. But there was something about her. Maybe it was the way her hair was thrown up into scrappy bun, or the way she was slightly frowning, like someone had just said something to piss her off behind the camera.

Or maybe it was the slight snark in her dark eyes. Her eyes weren’t eyes that someone painted, or that people got lost in, but I couldn’t manage to look away. “Her,” I’d said to my uncle when he returned with two cups of tea. “Ask her.”

“Well,” I say, holding my hands up, “This is your room.” She nods and finally moves from the doorway, taking in the room. “It’s cosy,” she says, smiling up at me. Holy shit, those eyes.

“Yep,” I nod, clutching my music. “Bathroom’s through there,” I gesture to the door. “We have to share it I’m afraid. Unless you want to trek to the one downstairs every morning,” I add when she widens her eyes. She quickly shakes her head, laughing like I’ve just said something funny.

“That one’ll be fine,” she says and we both stand for a moment, awkward silence filling the air. “Well, I’ll just,” she starts as she unzips her suitcase. I nod and leave as quickly as possible, accidentally slamming the door behind her harder than I meant. Swearing, I lean against the door for a moment before I hear music start up in her room. Led Zeppelin. Jesus Christ.

I manage to spend the rest of the day in the library, uninterrupted. That is until Amilyn comes in, passive aggressively ringing her dinner bell. Amilyn must only be in her late sixties, but she seems like she’s been around forever. I don’t know why Luke hired her, she’s incredibly brash and snippy and hasn’t stopped treating me like a fucking twelve-year-old. But Luke treats her and Chewie like family. I guess I can understand the Chewie thing. He’s always felt like a close friend, ever since I was a kid and he came with Luke to my parent’s parties. But Amilyn is just vexing.

“Alright, alright,” I hiss, dropping my book onto the couch as I stand up. Even though I tower over her, she continues ringing the fucking bell. “ _Vai a prendere la ragazza_ ,” Amilyn frowns, folding her arms. Go get the girl.

“Sure,” I sigh, making my way up towards her room. I didn’t sign up to be this girl’s fucking keeper. I take the stairs  two at a time, frowning when I come to her door. “Hey,” I call out. “Dinner’s ready.” No reply. I knock on the door. I knock again.

Scowling, I slowly push the door open, peeking my head through the gap. The girl’s  asleep on my bed. The  curtains are  still open , and s he’s lying ontop of the covers, hands under her head.  Her suitcase is lying open on the floor ,  some of her clothes laid out on the bed beside her. 

I walk closer, cringing when the old floorboards creak agressively under my foot.  I find myself leaning against my bookshelf, watching Rey sleep before I realise that if she woke up I’d look like a fucking psychopath.

I go to nudge her awake but I can’t bring myself to touch her. Instead, I turn and look for the thickest book I can find on my shelf. Trust encyclopaedia. I glance over at Rey before I let it slip from my hands. 

She jumps up, hair sticking everywhere as she wipes drool from the back of her hand on the bedsheet. Her dark eyes are weary, painted in sleep. “We’re being called for dinner,” I say, folding my arms. 

She looks up at me, yawning into her hand before she glances down at the encyclopaedia I dropped. “Light reading?” she quips, eyebrows arching up. I don’t reply, just slowly reach down to pick the book up. She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I’m probably going to pass on dinner.” She stifles a yawn before she falls onto her back. “Make an excuse up for your uncle though, will you?”

I just stare at  her , at  her in all  her brash rudeness. Is  s he being rude? Or is  s he just being American? 

Sh e does n’t give me a change to agree. Sh e doesn’t give me a chance to object and demand that  s he comes with me to dinner. To be honest, I’m not sure what I would say if  s he gave me the choice. Maybe it’s a good thing  s he doesn’t. Rey just rolls over and pulls the sheet over  herself , turning onto  her stomach,  burying her face in the pillow.

I watch  her for a moment, nothing and everything going through my head, before I sigh and leave the room, slamming the door behind me. I walk down to dinner alone, my heart in my chest like a rock rattling in a wooden box.


	3. Ashes to Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wait for Summer to end.”

Rey

The air feels different. Like when I breathe in I can feel everything all at once. I glance at myself in the reflection, my fingers twitching to the beat of my heart.

First day in paradise.

I scrape my hair up into a bun before I quickly pull on a sundress over my bathing suit. I smooth out the dress, crinkling my nose at the wrinkles. Biting my lip, I pull at it, cursing myself for not folding my clothes up properly. I’m about to search for another, hopefully less creased, outfit when I hear the soft strumming of a guitar.

Walking out onto the balcony that joins my room with Ben’s, I step up onto the railing, clutching onto the rails as I glance over.

There’s a table set up outside, laden with bowls of fruit, plates of pastries and fresh coffee. And there at the head of the table, is my new neighbour. Leaning back in the iron chair as he strums with one hand, tossing an apple up in the air with the other.

As the white light shines down on him, casting dancing shadows across his pale skin, I can’t help but stare. How can someone be that pale around here? And he seems to embrace it, with his black shirt loosely tucked into his black jeans. He looks ethereal, almost other worldly, sitting there like he has a lifetime to strum away.

“Sleep well?” I blink away from Ben as I watch Luke walk up to the table. The younger man just nods before he lightly chucks the apple towards his uncle, who catches it with a smile. Luke starts to help himself to a cup of tea, nodding his head to a silent song. Who are these people? Who live in this Eden and breathe this air all the time like it’s normal?

I step back from the railing when Ben’s eyes dart up in my direction, and I’m met with an annoyed raise of the eyebrow. Biting my lip, I hurry back into my room, grabbing a pair of sunglasses before I race towards the breakfast table. So many thoughts are flying through my head as I almost trip up on the bottom step, catching myself before I crash onto the tiles. The only one I manage to latch onto is the resounding fact that I’m breathing the same beautiful air as Ben.

“Morning,” I smile as I walk outside. I go to take the seat beside Ben but when I’m met with icy indifference, I slip into the seat beside Luke. “Do you need my help today?” I ask as I reach forward and help myself to a slice of toast, slathering butter on top.

“Maybe tomorrow,” he shakes his head. “Explore today. I’m sure Ben can give you a tour of Crema.”

My face bleaches, slightly terrified at that prospect, but when I turn to see Ben’s reaction, I’m surprised to see that he just shrugs. He barely even acknowledging me. “That would be great,” I try to smile, praying that it doesn’t come as a grimace.

“Peach juice?” I look up to see a woman holding up a jug of a thick orange juice in my direction, gesturing to my glass. “Oh, yes please,” I nod, holding up my glass. As she pours, she frowns down at me, and at first I assume it’s because of the state of my dress.

“ _Troppo magra_ ,” she shakes her head. I frown, about to that I don’t speak Italian when a deep laugh comes from beside me. I shoot a look towards Ben, but he’s already gone back to his guitar, looking down with a smirk on his face. The housekeeper then starts speaking rapid Italian, piling fruit and pastries onto my plate, shaking her head.

I blankly stare at her until she walks away, still clutching the glass of juice in my hand. “She’s made it your mission to pack some meat on you,” Luke says, looking up at me from his book. “She thinks you’re too skinny.” I laugh at that, thinking about how I eat back home. Ration to ration in the dorms, living on mostly crappy pizzas or super noodles. Fresh fruit is a luxury a poor, orphaned uni student doesn’t normally see.

I eat, discussing my classes back home with Luke and his travels to America, until Ben stands up without warning, making his way towards the massive back gardens, towards the lake. I watch as he walks, shoulders tense as his long legs stride past the tennis court. “Are you coming?” he calls behind his shoulder, disappearing into the trees.

“Go,” Luke laughs, opening his book again, frail fingers tracing the pages. He doesn’t look up again. These people never seem to question themselves. Never look back. I grab an apple as I run after Ben for the second time in two days, letting the warm air kiss my legs. I feel like I’m walking in the air, secluded from the outside world in this timeless bubble.

I find him standing outside of a shed, leaning against a bike. “You can use Luke’s,” he says, jerking his head towards a dusty, blue bike leaning against an orange tree. Nodding, I jump on the bike, sighing when I look up to see Ben already cycling ahead of me. This man doesn’t wait for anything. He doesn’t even look back to check that I’m following.

We cycle in silence for what seems like hours as I bathe in the rich scenery. We ride past an immense lake, sunlight bouncing off the soft, rippling waves. Past fields and farmhouses. I feel like I’m dancing through a song. I stand up on the bike, reaching up to touch the hanging leaves as we ride past.

“Abandoned tracks,” Ben says as he notices me staring at the discarded iron running along the grass beside us.

“No station?” I ask as he slows down to ride beside me. He squints at me through narrowed eyes, the scalding sun almost following wherever he goes. He shakes his head, turning forward again. “The train just stopped when you asked.”

I hum in response, glancing back at the tracks. “What happened to the train?”

“Travellers live in it now. Hauled the cars further inland decades ago. Since my uncle’s lived here.”

“Could we go look?” I ask, glancing up at him from under my eyelashes.

“Later maybe,” he dismisses me, again cycling faster. I don’t catch up, just drop back down onto the seat as I watch him ahead. I don’t know why his polite indifference stings me. He doesn’t even know me. But he’s clearly already made his mind up that he’s going to ignore me as much as possible.

He stops after another half hour of cycling, telling me that we’ve reached the main town square. He steps off his bike elegantly and starts pushing it along the cobbled road. As he walks, face cold, I peer up at him. He is handsome. Rather unfairly handsome. Assholes shouldn’t be allowed to be handsome. With pale hands and freckles painted up their arms-

“Sorry, what?” I ask when I realise he’s glaring at me.

“I asked if you were thirsty?” he scowls, his brows flat and lips pinched. I just nod, desperately not wanting him to hate me even more somehow. “Hold this,” he says, and I find myself balancing his bike against my hips. He walks into one of the buildings, leaving me alone in the square. Scowling, I guide the bikes towards the fountain in the middle of the square and lean them against the cool stone.

Hugging my arms around myself, I jump up onto the fountain ledge, walking around the edge. I take in the mountains in the distance, the pale blue sky that seems to swirl and dance. I find myself annoyed that I’ve been so preoccupied with Ben, almost forgetting why I’m here in the first place.

“Here.” I turn at his gruff voice, arching a brow as he hands me a large bottle of mineral water. He shrugs, rolling his eyes before he takes a swill from the bottle. “Fine,” I hiss, grabbing it out of his hands as he smirks at me.

The water’s cool and I go for another sip when Ben pulls it from my grasp, pouring some of it out into his cupped hand. I watch as he rubs his face with it, raking his wet fingers through his hair. Suddenly, an overwhelming thirst overcomes me and I drink the rest of the water. Must’ve been all the cycling. But the dry taste won’t leave my mouth.

“So, what do you do around here?” I ask as he sits down on the fountain ledge, knees jolting.

“Wait for summer to end,” he says, voice laced with spite and resentment.

“So what do you do in the Winter then?” I ask, sitting down next to him. He cocks his head at me, a doubtful look on his face. “Let me guess: wait for summer to come?”

He laughs, and it set off something in my gut. “Wait to go home,” he breathes wistfully, leaning back onto his elbows.

“This isn’t your home?” I ask, looking down at him through my sunglasses. He doesn’t say anything, but he scoffs, as if such a suggestion is ridiculous. We stay there for a couple moments, basking in the sun, and I listen to the soft trickle of the fountain behind us. Leaning back, I dip my fingers in, smiling as I swirl them about in the clear water. When Ben stands up and jumps onto his bike, I assume he’s taking me somewhere new but he just looks at me with a blank expression.

“Any great sights left to show me?” I breathe, not wanting for him to leave for some reason. I just want to stay here, fingers in the fountain. “Not really,” he shakes his head, “You know the way back?” I take that as we were both going back to the villa now, I didn’t take that as Ben cycling off quicker than I could keep up, tossing a quick later over his shoulder as he vanishes into the trees.

Well. What a dickhead.


	4. Empty Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I could help with that.”

Ben

The days tick by slowly. Imprisoned by the sun, peach juice and swimsuits. I sit by the pool each day, playing my guitar and ignoring the suffocating feeling that won’t seem to go away. Luke and Rey mill around the house, talking about philosophers and everything that seems to matter in the world. I just listen.

Today their morning talk was about Heraclitus and it was one of the days where I don’t listen to them and just focus on my music. I’d gone into breakfast with the intention to listen to them, but when I got downstairs and it was just Rey at the start, I clamped my mouth shut. She’d looked beautiful: hair up and a light yellow top tucked into shorts, peach juice already covering her hands. And I had almost told her. I almost said that she looked beautiful. And I’d caught myself just in time. So when Luke appeared a couple of minutes later and they started, I kept my ears in the sound of the cutlery hitting the plate.

We don’t really speak to each other unless we have to. It’s like dancing around glass constantly.

She’s only been here a week and it’s already too much. She’s just too _joyful_. All the time. 

Smiling while she spreads an ungodly amount of butter on her bread. Smiling when we ride up to town. Smiling when Amilyn tells her off for reading until four in the morning. Smiling when she takes it upon herself to fix up Luke’s old motorbike. Smiling when she runs down the stairs every morning, another new brightly coloured bathing suit on.

It’s exhausting.

Frowning, I push her from my mind, leaning back in my chair. I look up from my guitar, fingers stilling on the strings, when there’s a splash from beside me. Rey grins up at me from the water, sparing me a glance before she starts swimming lengths, her lean body moving with the ripples. Where did she even come from?

Throat bobbing, I look away, my fingers tightening on the guitar. I don’t think about the way her swimsuits always seem to clutch every part of her body. I don’t think about her at all.

“Will you play a song for me?” I tilt my head to face her, watching as she leans on the edge of the pool, looking up at me expectantly.

“No,” I say, turning away from her. She doesn’t object further like I expect, and the knot in my chest unravels slightly. But then I’m covered in water, jumping out of my seat as I hiss.

“What the-” I start, trailing off as Rey smirks up at me.

“It’s your fault for sitting too close to the water.”

“You’re such a little shit,” I hiss, trying to shake out the water. “I’m going out soon,” I groan, leaning my guitar against the chair.

“You are?” she asks, and I hate the way she sounds so surprised. I ignore her, pulling my shirt off to ring it out. Fucking asshole. “I didn’t think you had any friends.”

“I have friends,” I snarl, spinning around to frown at her. “I have plenty of friends.” She just snorts before she dives back down into the water, her legs kicking out behind her. “Hey, you’re the one spending your summer with an old man talking about school,” I protest, standing up on the edge of the pool.

She laughs as she surfaces, arching an eyebrow at me. Her hair’s back up in that scrappy bun, but strands are falling out, catching in the water. Those eyes look up at me, glinting and amused.

“Says the boy who spends his days transcribing music from guitar to piano back to guitar again.” I inch closer, folding my arms. “Playing your instruments and wearing black in the boiling heat. Ben Solo summed up perfectly.”

“That’s not all I do,” I object, picking at my black jeans.

“Oh yeah?” she asks, a feral grin plastered on her face. “Pray tell.”

“I also go on runs,” I mutter, feeling pissed off and slightly humiliated. “I have a life outside of this place, alright?” I frown, going to jump down from the edge of the pool. Then I feel a hand wrap around my ankle. Before I can protest, Rey’s yanking me down beside her.

I fall in with a splash, coming up spitting out water. Rey bursts out into laughter, clamping her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she giggles. “Holy shit, you should see your face.”

“You’re aggravating.” I mean to say it with anger painting my voice, but it comes out too soft. “You’re aggravating,” she pouts. I like the way my words sound on her tongue.

“You know how hard wet jeans are to take off, you prick?” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“I could help with that.” Jesus. I look up, feeling the heat prick at my ears and neck, meeting Rey’s eyes. A grin breaks out across her face and I roll my eyes. “You’re such a child.” She scoffs.

“I’m not that much younger than you,” she frowns.

“Six years,” I point out. “I have six whole years more knowledge than you.” She gives a huff of amusement, but doesn’t reply, just keeps watching me as she bops up and down. Water falls down her face, dripping off her ears.

Silence coats us, and we just seem to drift in the water for years. It’s the first time I’ve been glad for the murky way time moves here.

“Ben.” Rey blinks, looking away from me, and that feeling disappears and quickly as it came. I glance up to see Liliana standing beside us, arms folded. “Did you forget again?”

“No,” I shake my head, pulling myself out of the water. “I just need to get changed and then we can go,” I explain as I grab my soaking shirt and start off towards the house. “Non vieni?” I ask when Liliana doesn’t follow. She shakes her head, and when she glances at Rey in the pool, my stomach clenches.

“Aspetterò qui,” she mutters before she falls into my chair, fingers tapping along the guitar. Legs feeling like lead, I try not to run back into the house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it’s so short guys, the next chapter will make up for it :)
> 
> As always, kudos really keep me motivated to write <3


	5. The Winner Takes it All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No one loves Solo.”

Rey

“I didn’t know the new student had arrived yet.”

I look up from ringing my hair out, locking onto the girl’s eyes. So this is one of Ben’s _many_ friends. Maybe more than a friend, judging by the way they spoke to each other almost completely through looks.

The way her almost golden eyes wandered down Ben’s bare chest. The way his jaw had clenched when he noticed her. The way she’d tilted her head in amusement as he’d vaulted out of the pool.

“I’m Liliana,” she says, tilting her head at me as she perches on Ben’s seat. They make a beautiful couple; I realise as she stretches her legs out. She has an athletic physique, with strong, graceful arms and muscles that follow her curves. Glancing down at my own spindly legs, I awkwardly hug my arms to my chest.

“Rey,” I smile back. “I didn’t know Ben had any friends,” I say, feeling slightly less uncomfortable when she laughs. Her laugh is light and twinkly. A laugh that someone would write a song for. Maybe Ben already has.

“We live together back in England. I’ve known him almost my whole life.”

“You chose to live with him?” I laugh, not meaning it to come out as high pitched as it does. “I’ve only been here a week and he’s driving me crazy.”

“Yeah, well,” she shrugs, standing up to crack her back. “He might be a prick but he’s nice to look at.” She shoots me a sideways glance, brows raising in anticipation.

“I hadn’t noticed,” I mutter, ignoring the sharp thudding of my heart. Liliana smiles, nodding her head like she’s just promised to keep a secret for me. “So, are you and Ben like…” I trail off, instantly regretting asking as she grins at me.

“No,” she shakes her head, long blonde waves falling over her shoulders. “We’re on and off, especially when I’m bored, but me and Ben will never be together.” I must look as confused as I feel because Liliana sighs, straightening her back. “Ben and me are great as friends, and the man is _great_ at sex.” My throat bobs as I glance away, pushing the idea of Ben like that out of my head as she continues. “But we could never be _together_. I mean, you know what he’s like, always reading and strumming that fucking guitar.” She speaks to me like we’re old friends, like we’ve grown up together. Like we haven’t literally just met each other.

“No,” she shakes her head, laughing lightly. “I could never actually be with someone like Ben. Too angsty. He thinks too much,” she says, leaning in closer to me. “And he could never be with someone like me. He thinks I’m much too loud.” I can’t help but agree with him.

She opens her mouth to say something else when a door slams and we both turn to see Ben storming towards us.

His hair’s still damp, but he’s changed into a pair of light blue jeans, cuffed and paired with a pair of trainers. I’ve never seen him look so _casual_. “Let’s go then,” he says to Liliana, hands slung casually in his back pockets.

“Hey,” she says, and it takes a second for me to realise she’s talking to me. “Do you wanna come with us?” I glance over at Ben to try and gage his reaction, but he just frowns down at the ground as he scuffs his shoes. And that’s how he always looks. Why do I even care what he thinks?

“Sure,” I nod. “But I’ll need to get changed first.” Lilianna just smiles before she links her arm through mine, telling me that she’ll help me pick out an outfit. She doesn’t really ask if I mind, just starts steering me towards the villa. Checking over my shoulder, I catch Ben sighing before he falls back down onto his chair, running an annoyed hand down his face.

“I don’t think Luke’s ever brought someone as young as you in,” Liliana says from where she’s spread out on my bed, legs against the wall. I frown at myself in the mirror, tugging at the cropped shirt Liliana insisted I show her. “I wonder what he thought was so special about you.”

I just shrug before I turn to face her, hands on my hips. “What do you think?”

“You look hot,” she nods, tilting her head at me as she grins. I snort, tipping my head upside down to scrape my hair into its usual bun. “How about,” Liliana starts as she slides off of the bed, grabbing a hairbrush from the desk. “We leave it down?”

“I never leave it down,” I frown, twisting a strand of hair loosely around my finger. “It gets in the way.”

“There’s nothing like dancing in the square with your hair down,” she muses before she hands me the brush. “I can’t believe Ben hasn’t taken you yet,” she shakes her head, poking her head at the window, no doubt to check on what he’s doing in the garden. I lean beside her, brush still clutched in my hand. There he is, on his chair, playing his guitar. Just like he does every single second of every day.

“I’m glad I came in time,” she says as she tries on a pair of my sunglasses. “Who knows how much longer you would’ve stayed in here with the old man.”

“I like spending time with Luke,” I frown, shutting the window. “He’s nice.”

“There’s many words to describe Luke Skywalker,” Liliana starts, her beautiful face suddenly dark and stony. “But nice certainly isn’t one of them.” Before I can ask her what she means, she’s grabbing my hand, spinning me out of the door. “Now, Rey. Lets go dance.”

Dancing consists of Liliana racing into the middle of the square as soon as we get there, disappearing into the sea of people moving to ABBA. I watch her, long arms and legs moving to the beat f the song, until she’s swallowed up by everyone else.

“Your girlfriend’s really something,” I comment, arching an eyebrow when Ben scoffs.

“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t have _girlfriends_ ,” he adds before I can say anything else, stalking off towards a group of about five twenty-something-year-olds, leaving me alone at the side of the dance floor.

Breathing in deeply, I consider turning on my heels and walking straight back to the villa. But then I notice Ben watching me, clearly amused at my awkwardness. Fuck him. I’m going to have the best goddamn night of my life.

Storming over to the set-up bar, I order a vodka and coke, tapping my fingers against the counter as I wait. “You’re new.” Turning, I furrow my brows at the bartender as he hands me my drink. He’s cute, with a round jaw and big brown eyes.

“How did you know?” I sigh, leaning against the counter as I watch the dancing people couple up to a slower song that I don’t recognise. “Saw you come in with Solo. You’re clearly not friends, since he abandoned you for his group of assholes.” He leans closer to me as we both look over at Ben. He’s talking to four guys, passing out cigarettes as he tucks one behind his ear. Now this is a different Ben to the one who strums his little, worn-out guitar everyday.

“So, I’m guessing you’re Skywalker’s new assistant.”

“Student,” I correct him, turning away from Ben as I take a sip from the glass. “So you know Ben?” The bartender snorts, shaking his head with an almost resentful smile on his face.

“Not personally, no. I knew his dad though. And you can’t live in Crema without knowing about Ben Solo.” I didn’t know anything about this. But Ben is so…quiet. Yes, he’s cold and stand-offish, but he mostly just keeps to himself. Why would he have any type of reputation.

“Everyone loves his uncle,” the bartender continues as he wipes down the counter. I figured that out already, every night we have visitors for dinner, old friends or colleagues of Luke, he even invites random travellers for dinner if they appear. “No one loves Solo.”

“I’m Rey,” I say. I already hate how much space Ben takes up in my head. I don’t need his presence growing.

“Finn,” the bartender nods. He laughs as I slip into the barstool across from him and down the rest of my drink. “Another?” he asks, cocking his head with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Yes please.”

I stay with Finn for the rest of the night, chatting and laughing as he makes drinks. Turns out he came here two years ago when he was travelling, and he just never ended up leaving. He lives above the bar down the street, and he makes extra money by working for the discos in the square every Friday and Saturday.

Finn’s the most normal person I’ve met since I’ve got here, and it’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t a British millionaire, or a philosopher that I constantly feel like I’m trying to impress.

“One Peroni, pretty boy.” I look up from my drink to see one of the men Ben was talking to leaning against the counter. He’s grinning up at Finn from ridiculously long eyelashes. How do guys even get eyelashes that perfect?

“Coming right up, asshole,” Finn mutters, rolling his eyes. But when he turns away, back to the guy as he pours his drink, he smiles softly.

“So, _you’re_ the famous Rey,” the guy turns to face me, wearing a feral grin. He’s ridiculously handsome, with tanned skin and broad shoulders. He has nice eyes too, swirls of brown glistening down at me.

“And you are?” I ask, arching a brow as the man keeps grinning down at me.

“Poe Dameron,” Finn says stiffly before the beautiful man can reply. “One of Solo’s more domesticated pets,” he says before he hands Poe his bottle. Poe leans forward, his fingers brushing Finn’s purposefully as he takes the beer. “See you around,” he says to Finn before he winks at me, taking a swig of his drink as he disappears into the crowd.

Someone shouts out from the crowd that this is the last song, and there’s a collective sigh before everyone from the sides fill into the middle, jumping and dancing when the square fills with the sound of Stevie Nicks.

Sighing, I slide off the stool, handing Finn what I owe him before I make to find Ben. Or maybe I should just go home alone. Maybe that dick’s already gone.

“Hey,” Finn calls, tapping me on the shoulder. “Are you working for Skywalker tomorrow?” he shouts over the music. I shake my head, Luke’s heading up to Milan tomorrow morning, leaving me alone with Ben for a week.

“Come to my work then,” he points down the street. “We can hang out after.”

I nod before I wave goodbye, letting the final notes drift down the streets as I walk home. My head’s killing me.


	6. Panic

Ben

Rey doesn’t wait for me.

I watch as she leaves, swaying slightly. She tilts her head back, grinning up at the sky as she vanishes into the streets. I consider following her, making sure she gets home safe, but Poe’s slapping me on the shoulder and then somehow I’m at the lake.

I watch as everyone strips down to their underwear, standing in the middle fully clothed as my fuzzy mind slips away. I only realise I‘m holding a bottle when it smashes on the ground.

“Ren,” Poe smirks as he stands beside me, arm around my shoulder. I hate my nickname. Liliana’s the only one who doesn’t insist on using it. It doesn’t even make any sense. She goes to the same uni as me. But I eventually stopped objecting. I only ever get called it here anyway. Ren doesn’t exist back in England with Liliana.

Ren also doesn’t exist at Luke’s. But neither does Ben. Sometimes I’ll catch my reflection in the mirror and realise that maybe I’m the only one who knows who I am anymore. And maybe even that’s slipping away from me.

“Aren’t you coming in?” I blink, finding Liliana standing beside me. Poe isn’t next to me anymore; he’s diving into the water. I blink again and suddenly everyone who was standing around me is in the water. Their gleeful screams are too loud.

I shake my head, eyes feeling heavy. Then she’s gone and I’m sitting on the ground, back against a tree and knees pulled to my chest. I watch Poe in the water, head back as he roars with laughter. I watch Liliana covering her giggles with her hands as some guy carries her through the waves.

I watch the scene unfold in front of me, the moonlight hitting off the water, feeling very very far away.

I should’ve walked home with Rey. I wonder what she’s doing now. Maybe she’s on our balcony, flipping through one of her textbooks, hair falling in her face. She had her hair down tonight. She never has her hair down. Why did she have her hair down?

“Hey buddy.” I squint as someone tugs at my shirt, frowning at Poe and Liliana. “Lets get you home, okay?”

“You smell like shit,” Liliana grunts as she pulls me up to my feet. “Do you really have to smoke right now, Ben?” I didn’t even realise I was lighting one. I’m looking down at the cigarette in my hand when the guy starts shouting fag, so I assume he’s speaking to me.

“I didn’t even know I-” I trail off when I look up to see some guy pointing to Poe, a sick feeling unfurling in my stomach. Oh.

“Fuck off, man,” Poe hisses before he turns back to me and Liliana. “Lets go guys,” he tries to smile but I can see that fear in his eyes. The same fear he had when he turned up on Luke’s doorstep seven years ago, after his dad kicked him out the house. Thankfully, the old git died shortly after and Poe could move back home with his mum.

But I never ever want to see that look in his eyes again.

“What the fuck did you say to him?” I shout at the guy, shouldering Liliana off of me.

“I called him a fag,” the guy smirks up at me.

“Say it again,” I hiss, fists already clenched. “I dare you.”

“Fucking-” my fist connects with his jaw before he can say it. Shouts erupts all around as I grab the guy by his fucking polo collar, slamming him up against a tree. He spits out blood after I land a sloppy punch right in the middle of his fucking face.

I’m beginning to realise this might not have been the best idea when the guy in front of me duplicates and suddenly there’s two of him. And then there’s two of him punching me in the stomach.

Then it gets messy.

We end up rolling around on the ground, wet grass tickling my ankles as I deliver a swift uppercut, the guy’s head snapping back. “Fuck you,” he hisses, bringing his knee up and kicking me in the stomach. It winds me, and suddenly I find myself under him, and my face finds itself being smashed in.

Someone must drag him off of me, but before I can run at him, someone catches me around the waist, pulling me away. “You’re such a fucking idiot,” Poe’s snarling at me, face angry.

“He called you a-”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he snarls, dragging me along the road home. We walk home in silence, the only sound the scuffling of our shoes against the dirt. Poe has to stop at some point to bend over and throw up his guts before we reach the crossroads. I go right and he goes left. We don’t say goodnight.

Why the hell is he angry at me? I defended him. I gave the son of a bitch what he deserved, going around calling Poe shit like that. I shoulder open the side door and slip into the kitchen, praying that no one’s awake.

I try and sneak through the hall, testing out the floorboards before I step, when the sound of soft piano notes hits me. It’s random, with no proper rhythm or tune.

Leaning in the threshold, I watch as Rey taps her finger on the A key repeatedly. She looks so lithe and small in front of the grand piano, but the way she sways to the notes makes her seem like the brightest thing in the room. The sight of her unbound hair sets my heart thudding to the best that she presses the keys. Suddenly I feel incredibly sober.

I go to leave, hating the way looking at her soft skin makes me feel, when the floor screams under my shoe. Turning back slowly, I grimace, meeting Rey’s eyes. “I wanted to make music like you do,” she says sleepily, leaning her head against the music stand.

She stills when I sit down next to her, pressing down on the A key. Then I bring up my left hand, and let my fingers go. I don’t play music; the music plays me. It has my whole life. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been able to actually control.

This beautiful thing that I can use to make beautiful sounds. I can tell people stories, emotions, all through these keys. I can make something that matters to people.

I don’t know how long I play for, but when I look up, fingers stilling on the keys, Rey’s watching me, lips parted slightly. “Rey-” I start, needing to feel the taste of her name on my mouth. “You have your hair down.”

She doesn’t reply for a moment, eyes narrowing as she looks at me. Then she grabs my chin and I wince.

“What the fuck happened to your face?”


	7. Take on Me

Rey

“It’s not like he hasn’t done it before,” Finn shrugs when I tell him about Ben. My heart sinks even deeper, circling my spoon in my coffee. I sigh, dropping my head into my hands.

“You should’ve seen his face,” I murmur, pushing my tongue into my cheek. He’d looked even worse this morning, his pale skin a map of angry and harsh pink lines. His right eye had a blossoming bruise of black and purple around it. Ben had only showed up after Luke had left, grabbing a peach from the table before he grabbed his bike and disappeared.

No mentions of last night. He’d barely even glanced at me.

“Why is this bumming you out?” Finn asks through bites of his tiramisu. “Solo’s a prick.”

He wasn’t a prick last night. Not when he played for me. No. He was beautiful last night. And the way he’d looked at me. He’d made me feel beautiful too.

Or maybe I was just really drunk.

“Why do you hate him so much?” I ask, looking up at Finn. He pauses, dropping his spoon full of desert back onto the plate. “Have you ever asked him why he stays with Skywalker in the holidays?” he asks, eyebrows arched. Shaking my head,I admit that we don’t even talk that much. “Ask him,” Finn says before he focuses his attention back onto the plate. “So Skywalker’s gone a whole week, huh? That’ll be fun.”

“Ben just likes to pretend like I’m not there,” I sigh, biting my lip. “He just sits by the pool and plays his guitar.”

“He used to be in a band,” Finn grins shaking his head as he laughs. I give a huff of amusement at that. I can’t imagine Ben playing his guitar on a stage, hair wild and swaying. He doesn’t even play his music for Luke. It seems like it’s an entirely private thing for him. “Him, Poe and some of their other mates.”

“Poe, huh?” I ask, tilting my head up at him. Finn rolls his eyes. “What’s his deal then?”

“How would I know?” he shrugs. “We’re not friends.” I doubt that very much. I don’t know Poe, and I barely know Finn, and even I could see that he’s very clearly in love with the handsome bartender.

“Seemed pretty friendly last night,” I comment, smiling up at him.

“He just likes to piss me off,” Finn shrugs it off, running a hand down his face. I open my mouth, ready to object, when a small Asian girl slips into the seat next to me. Before I can say anything, she’s talking with a wide smile across her face. “I’m Rose,” she smiles, wrapping her arms around me in an awkward hug.

“Rey,” I nod before I look over at Finn with wide eyes.

“Let the girl breathe, Rose,” Finn says, tugging on her sleeve until she lets go of me.

“Sorry,” the girl laughs, her cheeks tinted pink. “I’ve just heard so much about you!” she exclaims as she slides Finn’s desert over to her, ignoring his protests.

“You have?” I frown, scratching the back of my neck.

“Well, you’re the girl Ren’s keeping hidden in his mansion,” she shrugs as Finn scoffs.

“Not everyone’s saying that,” he reassures me before he turns to Rose with a frown. “She likes gossip too much.”

“It’s a small town,” she explains, licking the back of the spoon. “Word travels fast.”

“Why are you calling him Ren?” I ask, watching as Finn and Rose silently battle over the plate.

“He goes to Ren University in England,” she elaborates, letting Finn have to plate as she turns to me. “Everyone just calls him that here.”

Finn snorts. “No they don’t. His asshole friends call him that, and then Rose.”

“Well,” I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “He’s not keeping me hidden away. I just didn’t realise there was really anyone my age here.” I smile at them both. “And now that I have friends here, I won’t need to talk to Ben at all.”

This results in Rose wrapping her arms around me again, even tighter this time.

*

I’m surprised when Ben pulls out a chair at dinner, falling into the one opposite me. Shaking his head, he flips his hair out of his face. He doesn’t say anything, just starts tearing into the lamb in front of us.

“You should’ve put ice on that last night.” He looks up at me, eyes narrowed, with a sneer on his face. “Who’d you hit?”

“Why are you assuming I started it?” he asks, brows furrowed.

“I’ve heard some things,” I say, voice trembling slightly as he arches an eyebrow, sending me a look that sends a shiver through my bones.

“Seems like you’ve already made your mind up about my character then,” he shrugs, running his tongue over his teeth.

“Who’d you hit?” I ask again, watching as he slowly cuts up the carrots on his plate.  
  
“I don’t know his name,” he admits. “He was at the lake with us.”

“Why’d you do it?” I ask. He sighs, dropping his cutlery onto the table.

“He wasn’t very nice to Poe,” he hisses. “Why are you asking me all of this if you already think I’m a dick?” His face is completely still, devoid of emotion, but his dark eyes are going wild.

“Why are you answering them?” I cock my head, breathing deep. It feels like a weight is pushing down on me, threatening to slam me though the chair and down into the earth. “Why would I lie to you?” Ben breathes, looking at me like I’m a child. Like I couldn’t possibly understand him.

We eat in silence, the only sounds the faint rattling of the shutters and the hum of the birds in the trees above us. “I don’t think you’re a dick,” I say after a couple of minutes, the silence strangling me. Ben’s eyes flick up to meet mine. “Well, you might be a bit of a dick. But I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

His lips quirk up, and he nods before he stares down at his plate. “I don’t think you’re a dick either,” he says, quickly standing up and vanishing inside.

I lean my head back against the chair, feeling deflated. Ben Solo is the most confusing person I have ever met.


End file.
